


Trouble For The Taking

by versigny



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Closet Sex, F/M, Frat Boy Jaehyun, Oral Sex, Party, Praise Kink, Private School, Riddles, Seven Minutes In Heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 07:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10680753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versigny/pseuds/versigny
Summary: What’s easy to get into, and hard to get out of?





	Trouble For The Taking

It never failed to feel surreal when you were in the NKT house.

House was a generous word, for one – or maybe a painful understatement was the better label. This place was by no means a house, by any stretch of the imagination: it was a mansion. The square footage was far above what you had ever had in your bank account, the liquor cabinets – plural – was worth more than your life, and if you walked into the wrong room it looked more like a bastardization of Beast’s castle from Beauty and the Beast than a “frat house”. Marble tiled floors, crown moulding, endless parlors and staircases and all. 

So the brand of student that was a part of this monster should come as no surprise to anyone. They were the best of the best, the famous and infamous, full of trust funds and old money and practically worshiped where they stood.

It would almost be funny if they all weren’t so… good-looking, you guessed. But that didn’t matter in the long run; you just needed to make it through this overpriced college track and get your degree and make your family proud and try to live a little. You could roll your eyes all you want, but you weren’t too good for free, fancy alcohol and the therapy of an expensive sound system.

Who knows, maybe you’d kiss someone cute tonight before tomorrow came and reality set in again. 

Lots were being drawn just then, and you sidled into line patiently, sipping on your drink. It was a healthy mix of genders, thankfully – that would help prevent awkwardness – and you smiled and nodded at Mark Lee as he offered you the bag to draw from.

You wandered off to the side to make room for the next person, and pried open the sheet with curiousity. The theme for this Seven Minutes in Heaven – you almost snorted that this was still being played at parties – was something about riddles, and you squinted at the smudged penmanship.

“What’d you get?”

You glanced up and saw a friend from an old chemistry class – one of the few you actually hung out with sometimes, being that you were both on scholarships. That also meant, however, that you had little time to do any kind of hanging out, because studying consumed most of your precious free time.

“ _’What is easy to get into, and hard to get out of?_ ’” you murmured to yourself, eyelashes obscuring your vision as you spaced out to dwell on the riddle. Your friend snorted, hardly stirring you from your daze as you mulled on the question over and over.

“Easy to get into, hard to get out of,” you repeated, frustrated that you actually had no clue what the answer was, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Good luck with that one, lady. I’m going to actually go find my partner. Bye.”

You absently waved her off, still focusing on what the answer might be, before reluctantly deciding to putter around the party and be _sociable_. Christ.

It wasn’t like you were someone _un_ sociable – you liked smiling and laughing and having a good time. It’s just that people didn’t generally didn’t _do_  that for you. People disappointed you. People whispered behind each others’ backs, catty and snide and full of vile secrets like something out of a trashy young adult novella full of rich girls.

But wasn’t that precisely the setting you had decided for yourself? Your scholarship combined with living for free in your aunt’s shabby old apartment made this expensive school actually feasible to attend.

You must have asked twenty people what was on their slip. Nothing matched. Nothing even came close. The last group of people you couldn’t even bring yourself to bother – some of the most wealthy yuppies in the frat were huddled up amongst themselves, drinks in hand and cozied up with pretty girls that were _absolutely_ getting laid in the next several hours.

Grimacing, you made to turn away, especially after you caught a glimpse of mussed hair under the flashing lights that you instantly recognized. No sooner had you turned on your heel a voice hollered your name, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reflexively jerking back to the source of the sound.

Nakamoto Yuta, ultimate piece of shit, was wearing a shit-eating grin and you wanted to beat the shit out of him. The look on your face must have been potent; the group more or less broke into sniggers at the less-than-friendly reaction Yuta had earned, and he just played it off in favor of gesturing you over.

You couldn’t walk away. Everyone was looking at you now.

 _Shut up_ , you told yourself firmly, slowly dying inside. _Just shut up and don’t fuck it up. They’ll get bored of you._

Cool brown eyes were latched onto your figure the entire stretch you walked over to the group. The circle was parted politely to give you room, and a quick lip bite and glance-over showed that you only recognized three of them, none of them being the girls.

“____,” Yuta crooned deviously, holding out his hand. “You drew, right? Fork it over.”

You were instantly scowling, recoiling away from the offending hand with wiggling fingers.

“I’ll see you in hell, Yuta?” you replied instead, earning more amused noises from his friends. Your nerves had outdone you, though – you peeked down at the hand clutching the slip, and Yuta’s quick perception followed the motion. He had already bridged the gap and snatched it, halfway open before you even registered what had happened.

“Yuta!” you yelled. “Son of a bitch, give it here–”

“’ _What is easy to get into, and hard to get out of?_ ’, huh? I see, I see… Is the answer that dress?”

A nod of his head your way had all eyes on your unquestionably questionable black dress. After finding out it was a Nu Kappa Tau party, all bets were off – you were told dress nice, and fucking nice, because if you didn’t you were going to a) be kicked out or b) feel atrociously uncomfortable in the setting where everyone else would be dressed better than you.

Needless to say, low-cut and wrapped around you like twenty feet of black velvet ribbon to hug every necessary curve. If you hadn’t been self-conscious before, then. Well.

Yuta, by some grace of god, chose to keep speaking as if nothing had happened.

“ _Anyway_ ,” he emphasized, allocating the attention back to himself gleefully, “have you not yet found your partner?”

You took the opportunity to snatch the paper back from his weaseling hands, shooting him another dirty look in the process before you averted your gaze to the irritating riddle. “No. Nobody.”

“I see,” Yuta repeated knowingly. But you were ready.

“…Which is probably why I should still be looking.” 

It was a bold statement on your part, and you amped up what you hoped was a smooth, confident posture and appearance of someone about to leave and go do what they said they would. Truthfully, you were going to grab a strong drink and stand by an exit where you could make an escape if need be and just browse your phone, but all thoughts went out the window when someone shifted and you found yourself staring at Jung Jaehyun, who was giving you a very curious look that left you utterly breathless.

“Wanna look together?” he asked.

Jaehyun didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard – it was that perfect note of low and silky to cut through the noise, and you couldn’t even remember if you’d said yes or not. A moment later, the song had changed and you were calmly gliding through the crowd with Jaehyun at your side, towering over you and smelling like something illegal and mouthwatering.

 _Fuck_.

“Sorry about that,” he said out of nowhere, and you blinked up at him, perfectly confused and still trying to come to your senses. Upon seeing your face, he chuckled lightly – his smile was devastating, potentially the part of him that melted you into a pile of incoherent mush faster than anything else – and elaborated, “I mean, sorry for using you to dip.”

“Oh,” you warbled back, struggling to speak properly in the face of Jaehyun, of all people. “I-it’s cool. You can have my number if you ever need an escape route, I like to think I’m good at that.”

A very attractive eyebrow went up and your brain short-circuited as your eyes went wide and you sputtered.

“I didn’t mean it like that! Wow! No, that wasn’t a pick up line, I swear to god–”

“S’okay,” he drawled back, still smiling prettily, “I’ll take you up on that offer even if I didn’t mean to use you as an _escape route_.”

You were still walking together, somehow. You hadn’t really been paying attention to all the bodies you bumped into and corners you twisted around, too affected by his presence mere inches from you and making your skin brim with static and your insides thrum uncontrollably to your heart.

“What do you mean?” Your voice felt small, and Jaehyun suddenly came to a pause in a foyer that led to the dorms. The crowd had thinned out here, mostly, and for one silly moment you were reminded of passing him in the halls of the arena before the game; time had gone slow, you had seen him so many times before, you had handed him clean towels and passed him fresh basketballs and give him cold water, he had smiled at you and thanked you, you had briefly talked a few times and never managed to deal with how he could look at anyone like they were _the entire universe and then some_  for those few passing seconds. He was standing too close, way too close–

“I wasn’t trying to get away,” he said softly, heavy-lidded eyes turned up as he tilted his head at you. “I was trying to get away with you.”

And then he held out a folded slip of paper that had your heart thumping to a halt.

The passage of time slowed to a crawl, dripping molasses in the warm and thick air. The paper opened once, then twice, and you saw the familiar script that had only one word written on it:

 _Trouble_.

You couldn’t react at first; you only felt your body grow hot with embarrassment and anticipation as the weight of the situation fully settled into your skin.

“That _has_ to be a bad omen,” you half-joked nervously, fingers crawling against the hem of your dress and brushing against your thighs. Jaehyun’s eyes followed the motions and you shifted to find yourself against a cold wall with nowhere else to go.

“Maybe,” he agreed ambivalently. “But let’s call it fate. Let’s say I’ve thought about kissing you for the last four months, and this isn’t the perfect set up to make it happen but I’m not going to say no if you don’t, either. And maybe, if I’m lucky, you might be okay with that.”

You waited in vain for the heartstopping curve of his lips to fade away, for the glint in his dark, deep eyes to vanish. You waited for a “just kidding” or an “April Fools!” never mind that it was November; you waited for the other shoe to drop.

Instead, Jaehyun looked just a touch anxious, like he was afraid you might say no.

After gaping like a fish for far too long, you finally spoke the first thing your traitorous mind could come up with.

“That’s… We…” You searched for words and came up with practically nothing, brow furrowing in frustration at yourself, “Jaehyun, you’re, you’re kidding me, right? I’m just… _me_. I-I don’t want to be a… I don’t want this to…?”

Because that was the thing – that was the ugly reality of it all. Jung Jaehyun was a _star_. He was handsome, downright gorgeous at times, he was charming and funny and so masculine yet so untouchable and lithe. He was a menace on the basketball team and everyone knew who he was.

He had also slept with, potentially, every girl in the place. Hyperbole, but… Still.

But Jaehyun’s brow had knit as well, and asked with concern, “Just ‘you’? What do you mean just you?”

Disbelieving laughter spilled from your lips, and you pushed your hair back, feeling flushed and dizzy. None of this felt real yet. “I’m _me_. I’m here on a scholarship, mostly. I don’t even _belong_ here. And I… I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d pay up to kiss you, but…”

You swallowed thickly. The music felt quiet now; Jaehyun’s warm and solid body further out of reach even though he was standing just as close as he had been. The truth was cold in your bones, and sobered you before you finished your sentence with a small, quiet smile and gaze dropped to the floor.

“…But you don’t have to convince me you like me or anything. I get how you operate. It just makes me a little sad that if we sleep together you’ll probably never talk to me again.”

There was not a sound from his end; you just hovered in your little space, staring at your sparkling midnight pumps against the pristine tiles. Your legs looked quite nice from this angle, you mused, and you swayed back and forth on your heels, distracting yourself from how hideously awkward things were about to become.

But you had to look up, eventually. When you did, the serene smile and light in his eyes were not there anymore.

_What’s easy to get into, and hard to get out of?_

The smile was missing. His eyes were darker than you had ever seen, and burned with a black lust that made your thoughts blank out of existence as your mouth parted, stunned.

“Closet,” he said suddenly, voice husky. “Now.”

His hand was the one that snatched the knob beside you, yanking the door open smoothly but with far more force than necessary. Your heart spiraled out of control immediately, pounding in your ears and blood rushing to every sensitive place as you stepped inside and watched dumbly as he followed and shut you both inside.

He didn’t touch you yet. Instead, he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone, swiping a few times before slamming it down on a shelf where you could see it.

The timer had been set to exactly seven minutes and zero seconds.

“Seven minutes,” he began, and a pang ran from your spine down to your core at his tone, “seven minutes for me to convince you otherwise. Deal?”

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow, but you managed it and nodded weakly.

“Deal,” you whispered back.

There wasn’t much time to waste. Jaehyun lingered where he was for a moment, as if he was unsure what to do first; part of him admittedly could have just stared at you forever, so tempting and vulnerable before him, but it was obvious from the outline of his shoulders and set of his brow that deep, deep down he longed to devour you where you stood.

Then his mouth was sealed across yours, his entire body slamming you into the wall as hands devoured you and kiss set you panting. You could hardly process the sensations, he was everywhere at once with lips roughly tumbling over yours and angling every single way he could to taste you and feel you through his own mouth. The kiss had you breathless, and then came his hands – they moved erratically, with no set pace, and he seemed to be trying to feel everything he could possibly reach and burn his touch into your skin in a way where you could never forget it even if you tried.

“J-jae,” you gasped against his lips, “ _hyun_ –”

“Yeah?” he breathed back against your lips, breaking away just long enough to peer down intensely into your eyes. Then he was smiling crookedly, and then leaning in, biting your lower lip and tugging it into his mouth to nibble and suck on. It left you wholly unable to say anything aside from incoherent moans and trembling hands that could only grasp feebly at his shirt. No kiss lingered for long, it always turned into teeth grazing your swollen lips until he couldn’t hold back any longer and bit down softly again.

Part of you wanted, desperately, for his tongue to come into play and really stop you from being able to think clearly ever again. But you were also struggling to remember your name to begin with, and a sudden, bubbling fear took root – what if you were a bad kisser? This was Jung Jaehyun, of all people, and you were making out with him and slightly buzzed and the idea of ruining this with a sloppy kiss had you practically in a cold sweat.

Jaehyun forcibly removed the thought from your head when his fingertips dug into your dress, cinching at your waist as his tongue swept at once across your own and your followed the movement naturally, like you were born to just sit around and kiss nobody but him. Then he was pulling away, string of saliva connecting you that he easily swept up in a lick as his teeth came down around the soft place on your jawline. The sensation was electric. You instantly gasped and jolted up into him, body pressing body and melting into his touch as he proceeded to grin his way to your ear. The boy had a thing for biting, it seemed, and your breathing had turned erratic and pitched by the time he decided to seek out the sweet spot just under your ear, kissing the lobe gently before sucking on the flesh.

“O-oh,” you swore, “ _fuck_.”

“Mmhmm,” Jaehyun hummed back, punctuating each suck with another kiss until he was trailing down your throat. You couldn’t imagine what this would look like in the morning if he tried any harder. You were tough to bruise, but you’d bet your scholarship he loved a challenge, so you opted against mentioning that tidbit just yet.

 _Later_ , your heart sang, _maybe later_ , maybe if he actually was crazy and there was a next time.

You had almost forgotten there was another side of your neck. After ravishing the right side, he carefully dipped under your chin, leaving open-mouthed kisses over the apple of your throat before resuming his work on the left. Jaehyun nipped and suckled raw, tender marks up the column of your neck with single-minded certainty, making sure to hold you up steadily, taking your own weight with unreasonably strong arms that flexed firmly against you. You felt bad for squirming, your whole body brimming with want and feeling too much to contain any of it, but then again, it was also entirely his fault, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t stop from cursing, either, muffled mewls of pleasure and incoherency.

“This is so much better,” he murmurs in the middle of some dizzying staccato of your heart slamming against your ribcage, sending tingles up and down your spine with it that carry the the light, musical sound of his admission, “so, _so_ much better than I imagined.”

“Oh f- _fuck_ you,” you whine, torn between disbelieving hysterics and asking him to follow through and fuck you against the wall, party be damned. You would do anything for him right now.

But Jaehyun takes a moment to consider that prospect. With heavy-lidded eyes, full of shadowed warmth, he leans back and traces a single fingertip across your swollen bottom lip.

“I want to finger you first,” he says, breathless, and it drains any of the fight you had in you until you’re a puddle of his whims. “May I?”

You’re somewhere between registering how oddly sweet and polite the way he asked is and how your underwear is such a drenched mess you can feel it sticking to every inch of you between your thighs when a loud, noisy jangling fills the sweltering space. Both you and Jaehyun start at the alarm going off in a series of yelps and frantic limbs tangling, before he returns to his senses and slams his hand down on the phone, silencing it effectively.

Having him off of you lets the cool air filter across your flesh and give you unfiltered access to stare at him. His arm is still outstretched and tense as a wire, and his chest rises and falls with his heaving breaths. Passingly, his tongue rolls over his lips to wet them, and then leaves them parted as he gazes at you with so much thick heat, so much uncontrollable _want_  you forget why you both stopped in the first place.

But something in him, you don’t know what, forces him to swallow hard enough to see his Adam’s apple bounce and his dilated pupils to soften on you.

“Question still stands.” Is all he says. Your eyes almost roll back in your head from the audacity of it and your own strangling embarrassment, the sheer weight of feelings that fight to render you faint-hearted.

Jung Jaehyun is asking if he can finger you in a linen closet in the NKT frat. The music outside is a low bass, grindy and thumpy, and only vague lights flicker from the cracks in the door, leaving him nothing but a captivating figure in the shadows. Even this way, he’s still tall and takes over the meager space like he owns it with all his quiet intensity. 

He wants to finger you.

Realistically, more will happen afterwards, and you will have to deal with one of the most amazing flings of your life while then resuming the rest of your college career avoiding eye contact and accepting that he’s never going to interact with you again unless he has to. Jaehyun doesn’t like clingy, you’ve heard through the grapevine, and he most _certainly_  does not date, Christ in heaven no. Every game you work for your federal aid checks will be tinged with bittersweetness and undercurrent of awkwardness with messy auburn hair and muted eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You meant to say _yes, please, please_ , but the question is what comes out instead. Jaehyun’s expression doesn’t change; he just blinks and takes his phone in his hand in what you think is disinterest and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach like lead, all the shivers going out of your nerves at once and replacing it with silently horrified adrenaline. You had royally fucked up, somehow, in some way, and panic had you wondering what exactly he was punching in–

“I’m just turning off the alarm,” he said gently, shooting you a faint smile of reassurance. “Chill.”

And every centimeter of you goes hot with humility. Wide-eyed, you grimace at the floor, pressing your hands to your over-heated cheeks and trying not to laugh at your pathetic self. Jesus, wasn’t alcohol supposed to calm people down?

“I said _chill_ , not worry more,” the honeylike voice cuts into your thoughts, and to Jaehyun’s credit, his smile does help convince you to simmer down into just a bundle of frustrated nerves instead of mostly anxiety. It’s infectious, and you can’t help but vaguely smile back, sucking in a long breath as you press your legs together and lean against the wall, trying to restrain yourself from fretting in his presence.

Consequences could come later anyway.

“You’re a difficult person not to be antsy in front of,” you mumble back in half-hearted protest. “You look like… _that_  all the time. It’s not fair.”

Jaehyun actually rolled his eyes at that, and in the same motion set his phone back on the shelf – presumably on silent. The continuation jump-started your pulse again as he closed the space between you again, taking care to move slowly and sensually as he openly sized you up.

His hands came on either side of your head, laid flat against the wall as his hips followed to cradle into your own. Your muddled senses wondered if you were feeling more than just deliciously jutting hipbones, but he was quick to distract with him caging you in and leaning in to capture your mouth with his.

There was no roughness in this kiss – it was deeper than deep, and sucked the air out of your lungs. Time lost any sort of meaning as the universe wrapped itself around you into nothing but him, the musky fragrance he exuded and the sinful way his tongue wrapped around yours, tasting everything you had to offer. Everything he did was calculated to drown you in his touch and drive the obtrusive doubts from your heart.

One scorching hand dragged down your side as he broke away and spoke huskily, “You really make my life difficult when you talk like that.” You could hardly form a response by the time his fingers skirted the bottom of your dress, toying it upwards over your thigh.

“You make life difficult by existing,” you fumbled back, blushing furiously at _oh my god his fingers are going to be in me_ and his low chuckle made it all so much worse. You squeezed your eyes shut as his knuckles grazed the fabric of your underwear, letting the electricity run its course through you.

“I could say the same for you. Can I just add that–” he paused to let a fingertip run over your clothed slit and you almost jumped at the motion, “–I cannot believe you’re this wet, and here I thought I couldn’t get any harder than I already was. You’re amazing.”

You didn’t know if it was the praise, or the physical contact, or the fact that it was _him_ of all people, but an utterly embarrassing whimper escaped your throat and you wanted the floor to swallow you up. Your whole system was hypersensitive to every noise, every touch, and you could practically feel each vein in your body pumping blood low and deep and throbbing from your nipples to your core.

“You’re also really fucking hot,” he adds as a throaty afterthought, almost like he didn’t mean to say the words out loud – but he’s staring at you and your totally fucked-out expression and quickly losing any composure he had clung to. “Really, _really_  fucking hot. Hold onto my shoulders for a second, baby.”

Your hands listened instantly before you could process what or why he was saying that, nodding anyway and reaching an understanding only when he crouched down enough to slip his hand up your dress and hook his nimble fingers around the elastic of your panties. It took several messy, rushed yanks for them to end up above your knees, and he only glanced up at you once the fresh, unbidden scent of your arousal hit the air. Jaehyun savored the moment of delicious insanity it drove into him, licking his lips and staring at you with something predatory while the same hand adjusted himself in his jeans roughly.

Then, purposefully, he rose back to his full height until he was craned over you, cradling you against the wall.

“Good girl,” he crooned, so quietly you almost missed the loaded term of endearment. “Just relax for me.”

You nodded again, nursing on your bottom lip fiercely to try and stay sane. Every atom of your being vibrated with need, and you dumbly focused on Jaehyun’s unreasonably beautiful face as he guided you through it. Once your dress was out of the way enough, he braced you firmly with one hand by the hip, digging his thumb into the sensitive place just inside of your hipbone, and the other traveled with aching slowness down your pelvis, dipping where your waist met your thigh, and then circling tauntingly towards your center.

“Good,” he murmured once more, “you’re doing so good. Stay with me.”

“M’trying,” you gasped out as the first of a fingertip glossed over your folds. The friction was so quick, so subtle it only made you more excruciatingly aware of how wet you were, and Jaehyun didn’t give you any time to prepare before he returned to stroke over you and part you open.

“You know something?”

The prompting causes you to blink up at him, and the way he looks at you with such heavy, promising eyes and a lovely mouth makes you proud you resisted him for as long as you did, because you’re not sure how you did. But his statement, in all its lustful finality, seals your poor fate and your heart trips over itself before lodging in your throat.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”

Then the fingers are right _there_ , his middle finger prodding at your entrance before pressing in just enough to slide in. You can feel every bit of him in every part of you, and going from nothing to something is overwhelmingly blissful in a heartbeat. He sways the digit inside of you gently, feeling you out and warming you up before he gingerly, slowly drags it back out. He’s barely touched you and you’re already about to fall apart, lungs aching for air and nerves lit up like fireworks as you brace against the wall.

Jaehyun exhales, swallowing after he does, and you think you see his shoulders shaking. He might not be as in control of himself as you thought, after all, and that fact has you automatically holding back an embarrassing sound in your chest.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers after a moment, and slides back in effortlessly. The words make you tighten around him and this time he visibly tenses, eyes fluttering shut as he struggles to keep sane. The pace he moves at is agonizing, but he repeats the motion – pulling his finger out, swirling minutely as he does, providing just a _little_  more stretch than before, and then pressing back inside of you again. Your knees are trembling when you decide to nervously plant your shaking hands on his arms to hold yourself up better, instead of scrabbling futilely at the wall.

“F-fuck,” you finally rasp, unable to stay silent any longer. “Fff- _fuck_ , fuck, that feels good–”

“Good,” he half-growls back, daring to dig in a little deeper this time and you instantly see stars. “No, really. Good. You deserve it.”

It feels like he’s going somewhere with this – like he has a point he’s trying to make, but your brain is hardly functioning outside of the realm of how fucking good he feels with just his one single finger, the swell of his knuckles and the pad of the tip rubbing you as he goes in and out. Jaehyun’s breathing is audible and uneven now, ghosting across your collarbone as he gazes down at you, flickering between his hand disappearing under your dress and your flushed, damp face.

Swallowing down the dryness in his throat, he starts again. “You… You’re always saying hi to everyone. You smile at everyone. You don’t leave anyone out, even the guys who are benched.” The circling of his finger inside of you, rolling against your walls tantalizingly, grows harder, firmer. “This whole place is so laughably fake and there you were, handing out towels and water and smiling like you cared, sweet and considerate, and… and you…”

Jaehyun’s voice dropped an octave as he angled himself out, and suddenly a second finger was there, teasing your opening with the other as he leaned in close and accusatory, “And you never treated me any differently than them.”

Both fingers went in, stretching you deliciously with a strangled mewl from you. He curled them as soon as they were in, stroking the tender spot up and in that had you panting and clinging to his sweater viciously, trying to stay upright as your eyes squeezed shut.

“J-Jaehyun, I’mm _mmh_ , fuck, fuck, oh…!”

“See? Just like that. You look so pretty and sweet writhing like this… I just,” he sighs, the tip of his nose tracing your cheek, “couldn’t get over how you always talked to me like I was a human being and not a fuckdoll or star athlete. So confusing, you are.”

He says the last part softly, like it’s an admission he doesn’t have the courage to admit. The tempo of his fingering ticks up, though, and you can even feel the way his forearm flexes sinfully with every thrust. Jaehyun rocks his hand against you until you’re being properly fucked with his fingers, slick juices smeared across his palm and your cunt as he grinds it into your clit and sending a dull, throbbing pleasure down deep into your center.

“And it really fucked me up sometimes,” he’s only whispering now, his mouth brushing against your ear because he can’t stand away from you anymore, “how I went from wanting to fuck someone to, to you – I just really wanted to kiss you. I wanted to kiss you a million times, and take you on dates first, and, fuck, you are just… so…”

The last word ends on him shoving in roughly and coming back to kiss you again like a man starved. Your chest feels full and stuffy with exquisite pleasure and too many tangled emotions to count when he breaks away and asks like a perfect gentleman, “Let me go down on you?”

This time, you warble a laugh, barely able to speak let alone decline, “B-but I won’t be able to stand up?”

Jaehyun gives you a thousand-watt smile that makes you melt, and flexes an arm cloyingly. “I gotcha.”

Without allowing you another opportunity to come up with excuses, Jaehyun drops to his knees. Automatically, like magnets snapping towards magnets, your hands find his and grip tightly, fingers laced together as he props you up and eagerly tucks his face between your legs.

Jaehyun can’t help himself – he samples first, with a long inhale that has him moaning out at the end, and his tongue peeks out to prod a few times and let the taste sit on it. You only feel his hands tighten when you cry out and writhe, and for a split second there’s glitters of mirth in his eyes gazing up wickedly at you before they disappear beneath your dress and his mussed bangs, mouth consuming you whole.

“Oh, _fuck_!” you can’t help keep your voice down anymore, and pray to god there’s nobody outside the closet area. You can feel Jaehyun chuckle against you, into you, the vibration tingling more than anything fairly should as he laves his tongue over you again and again patiently.

Just when you think you’ve found a rhythm, he changes it; long lapping motions turn into the tip of his tongue tracing tenuous triangulations, all sorts of shapes at different pressures to keep you on your toes. The softest kitten licks become rough, hard swallows in the blink of an eye, his mouth suckling around your clit insistently. The tight sucking effect had you seeing stars and your arms trembled violently as you struggled to keep vertical, leaning against the wall in futility as you gasped and mewled.

You were only granted one fleeting moment of reprieve. After a particularly long and hard suck he broke away with a noisy _pop_ , blood rushing straight to it in response as he groaned happily.

“Tastes,” he hums, breathless between his licks instead, “ _good_.”

Everything was building up far too fast. The onslaught of sensations had you tumbling rapidly towards an edge you were not ready to meet – your sensible mind was begging you to savour this, make it last, memorize how good it felt to have his fingertips digging into your knuckles and his cheeks pressed to your thighs. You couldn’t follow what he was doing with his tongue anymore, as he delved between stroking it inside of you, swollen and warm and wet, and flicking your sensitive bud to coax you to your climax. You couldn’t even catch your breath let along plead with him to slow down.

“M _mffggh_ ,” you muffled into your own reddened lips, “f-fuck, fuck, I-I’m, w-wait–”

“Mm-mm,” he denies you instantly, instead combing your dress out of the way so he can gaze up at you with sultry eyes. His voice are stifled by your cunt against his mouth, but you can certainly make out what he says anyway: _cum_.

Your whole body curls in on itself. You go on your tiptoes, your nails sink into his hands desperately, your eyes squeeze shut and you bite down and suck on your bottom lip viciously enough to almost taste copper, and everything culminates in the endless wrath of pleasure that comes from your center all at the hands – and mouth – of Jung Jaehyun. The tight coil unravels like whip and you buck forwards, letting go of his hands abruptly on instinct to grab his hair instead and use his head for balance. Your knees tremble and your chest shudders as you practically sob his name, ecstasy and relief and sickly sweetness flooding you in what is literally the best orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. Everything else disappears in its midst, leaving nothing but you and him, one in the same, Jaehyun turning into your whole bright reality and nothing but raw, burning, lust and a luscious ache only he could fill.

It could be minutes or an hour before you come back to your senses. You don’t remember ending up on the floor, practically tearing up at the corners of your eyes as your poor body tries to recover from the earth-shattering climax it just endured. But it’s dark, and warm, and the subtle scent of Jaehyun’s cologne is outweighed by the fragrance of musk and sex and it’s only with concentrated effort that you shove your hair out of your face and fumble to your knees, only to realize he has you safely against him.

“Hey,” a familiar voice rumbles against your scalp, lower and huskier than it had been before you had an orgasm that changed your life. “You good?”

“Great,” you chirp back, voice cracking sharply as you laugh without any air in it. Your lungs aren’t quite back to normal yet. “Peachy.”

And then your mouth waters. You’re not sure you can stand up yet, but that doesn’t matter right now, because what _does_  matter is that you have never, ever wanted to suck someone off more than you have in this very second–

“Jae…” you begin sweetly, letting the adrenaline and afterglow take over naturally. It makes blinking up at him with glazed eyes under your eyelashes like some kind of sensual, sexually frustrated temptress much easier. “Let me suck your cock?”

The face Jaehyun makes in response is priceless. His answer, less so.

Rolling his eyes and, dare you say it, blushing to high heaven, he just shakes his head firmly, “No. Absolutely no.”

Ouch. The disappointment and hurt must shine clearly on your own profile, because he bites his lip and runs his hand over your damp cheek soothingly.

“Please?” you try again feebly. Jaehyun shakes his head once more.

“No,” he repeats, but this time his free hand joins the other to hold your face and stroke your cheeks. The gesture is sweet and full of fondness, and the melting feeling in your chest evaporates into lightning as he purrs, “But maybe later.”

He has some kinda way of sucking the oxygen out of you.

This time when he kisses you, it’s deep and longing – trying to capture something he can’t find. He tastes a little like you and everything about it is so satisfying that you want to just fall into him like this forever, trapped in his arms and surrendering to his kiss until you can’t think or breathe.

When Jaehyun breaks away, his chest is heaving like he’s run a marathon and his hair a certifiable mess of sex, but his eyes are bright; he does his shy sort of half-smile that makes you weak, and fumbles for what he wants to say.

“Sorry for,” he swallows awkwardly, trying to catch his breath, “being so intense. I didn’t think you’d… be so okay with any of this… And I wish I’d said something to you sooner. M-maybe not like this,” he jokes, obviously bashful about his behavior.

You know, rationally, even with your big dumb smile plastered on your face and the heat flooding your cheeks, that it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell him you loved him. That would be hasty and probably make him so, so uncomfortable – even if you think with every inch of yourself that you do, so much, in this instant.

So you just cough and laugh gently, pressing your head to his chest.

“This is fine,” you murmur, trying to quiet your rampaging heart and smile that’s making your cheeks hurt a bit. “This is really, really fine. This is everything. This means a-a lot to me.”

It’s very easy to forget that he just ate you out against the wall behind you and that he said some of the strongest obscenities you’d been graced with yet when he snugly laces his arms around you, keeping you in a tight hug like he would his pillow at night. If you let your head go quiet, you can pretend you feel his own heartbeat close to yours, his emotions radiating from his body in rolling tides and waves and washing against your own heart. The universe detracts all the way down to just you and Jaehyun, Jaehyun and you, until you feel a sense of peacefulness and contentment you didn’t know existed yet.

But you were also _way_  too shy to say something like that, either, so you just silently found his hands and sunk into them with your own securely, squeezing softly so he knew… something. Who knows what.

So he knew you were thinking about him, you supposed.

“Yeah, fuck this party,” Jaehyun laughs suddenly, and you can barely blink before he’s effortlessly prying you up and off the floor with him. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he crouches down and rolls your panties down your legs, escorting you out of them while he casually balls them up into his pocket. You can’t find the time to be scandalized, however – he’s just as smoothly tugging your dress back down over your thighs and adjusting it nicely into place.

“What a shame,” he teasingly laments, rising back to his full height so he can ruffle your hair back into some sort of array. His smile is sleepy and endeared as his eyes flicker briefly to yours. “That look really suited you.”

“Cuck,” you grouse back, attempting not to vibrate at his very loaded compliment. But he just brushes you off, fixes up his own clothes; you don’t miss the way he spends extra time on the crotch of his pants, surreptitiously angling away from you as he attempts –  _attempts –_  to subdue his erection.

“Do you want to go walk by the river?”

There’s something in his suggestion that strikes a chord in you – like you know, deep down, that saying yes might change things forever. Things were probably changed when you agreed to lock yourself in that closet with him, but this was the nail in the proverbial coffin.

And you were absolutely ready to die if that was the case.

“Yes please.”

 

A few people wave at Jaehyun as you both work your way through the party, but he never lets go of your hand. Nobody comments on that. You’re fully aware these people think he’s probably taking you somewhere to sleep with you, and yeah, maybe he’s just an incredible liar and you let your heart get far, far too ahead of you. The possibility that you’ll wake up tomorrow and Jaehyun will never make eye contact with you again, let alone speak to you like a friend, is still very real.

But you don’t want to think about that. You want to just keep holding his hand, bumping into him occasionally as you walk together, and quietly imagining that you might do this again sometime, in another life.

“I hope you know I meant what I said,” Jaehyun pipes up at some point down the bank. The moon is out and bright and the farther you walk, the less stragglers are around and the more you can hear the movement of the water and the singing of the crickets.

“I mean,” you admit, swinging your hand gingerly with his, “I want to believe you. Very much. I’ll just keep my fingers crossed and if I feel like a moron tomorrow then so be it.”

“You won’t. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.”

Jaehyun’s tone was cutting, but he wasn’t angry – he was just a boy desperately, desperately wanting the girl he was secretly and silently head over heels for to understand him. He couldn’t tell you what you looked like, lovingly unkempt under the moonlight and doused in shadows. He wants to keep this image of you all to himself until the ends of the earth.

He stops walking, forcing you to pause with him. You turn to face him properly and he dips in close to kiss you again, pouring all the trapped emotions in his chest into it.

“I can’t make it to breakfast,” he whispers, a little raspy, “but after everyone wakes up and I’m done taking care of their hangovers, we could do lunch.”

You believe him when he offers it. He means it. Nobody could look so earnest and unsure and not mean what they were saying.

It’s all a lot to take in, and your senses make to short-circuit – you kind of want to let your eyes water again, but tamp it down with another stupid smile and look at the ground.

“I promise,” he adds, and any defenses you had left disintegrated.

“Well if I wasn’t in trouble before…” you mumble, hiccuping in laughter that threatens to spill out of bubbling happiness. “I sure am now.”

Jaehyun’s hands squeeze yours tightly, and he nuzzles your cheek. By the time you look up, he’s giving you that heartstopping smile he is so very talented at, and you forget how to breathe.

You don’t ever think you’ll grow accustomed to that smile, and apologize to your poor, poor heart.

The dark glint in his eyes is back; the clouds are coming in, dimming the pale illumination, and in the distant trees you catch flickers of fireflies. Everything in this moment is perfect, even if it doesn’t last.

His lips curl as he purrs back.

“Yes. And you’re never getting out of it again.”

–

(And Jung Jaehyun keeps his promise.)


End file.
